


Deny

by cemetery_driven



Series: daddy kink 'verse [5]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: BDSM, D/s, Daddy Kink, Kittenplay, M/M, Oral Fixation, Orgasm Denial, Petplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 01:27:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2489372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cemetery_driven/pseuds/cemetery_driven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard doesn't do what he's told, and Frank isn't too happy about it when he gets back home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deny

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gerardwaysgay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerardwaysgay/gifts).



> For my muse, my flame. Apologies for delays, getting MCR tattoos and working got in the way.

Gerard knew he was going to get his ass beat, but he couldn't not do it. It had been Frank's decision to leave him at home, ears clipped into his freshly-washed hair, tail firmly in his ass. Frank had said he was to remain on the bed, not move, unless he needed the bathroom or a drink. Frank would order them pizza or Chinese later on. Gerard had been lying there, with Suspiria playing softly in the background, staring at the reds and blues and oversaturated Dario Argento style in one of Frank's Black Flag shirts for over an hour.

 

Gerard was bored, and he was in a mood, and the reply he got to the first picture – his own 'cute little kissy face' as Frank called it – made him want to do it more. It had been a simple 'not now G,' but something about the way Gerard's mind processed it made him shudder. He wanted Frank to go absolutely fucking insane on him tonight.

 

He'd slowly tiptoed to the bathroom, and taken another photo over his shoulder. It had taken some effort, and about five goes before he actually got his ass and the tail within the frame. He'd sent that one off, got a cranky face in response, and giggled. He'd played around with the tail, wrapping the fluffy end around his fingertips, sticking his butt out, click, send, receive annoyed reply. Frank's response to that one was a badly-spelled out jumble that Gerard roughly translated into 'Gerard seriously stop it I'm trying to do shit'. Gerard held the phone out in front of his face, and stuck two fingers in his mouth, got them all wet and slick with spit, and dragged them across his lower lip. He snapped a photo again, typed 'but Daddy,' below it, and sent it off.

 

After that he'd stuck his phone under his pillow, got himself a glass of diet coke, and curled up on the bed again.

 

Suspiria ended, and Gerard had started half-watching some terrible cartoons when he heard the front door click open and shut. He flicked off the TV, took a quick swig from his glass, and rolled over to face the bedroom door.

 

When Frank opened the bedroom door and slammed it shut behind him, Gerard knew he was in trouble. He was in more than trouble, he was six miles past trouble. Frank's eyes were dark, and Gerard curled in on himself a little.

 

“I told you to quit it, didn't I?” Frank muttered, his voice serious and sharp and Gerard felt a pang in his gut, because maybe it had backfired, and this was beyond bad.

 

Gerard swallowed. “Yes, Daddy. I'm sorry.”

 

Frank scoffed. “No, you're fucking not,” he snapped. “On your fucking knees. Floor.”

 

Gerard's face fell, and he did as he was told. He kept his eyes on the floor, and his hands behind his back, lightly tracing over the top of his tail. It made him feel better, something about the soft, fluffy fake fur just made him feel like less of a complete asshole.

 

Frank grabbed Gerard's jaw, his fingers tight, and forced Gerard's eyes to his. “You shouldn't fucking do that when I'm doing a goddamn interview, Gee,” he murmured. “Do you know what you did?”

 

Gerard sniffed. “No, Daddy. Well, yes, but. No, Daddy.”

 

“You,” Frank muttered. “You, you... have you ever had to try and hide your phone from fucking Ray? Has he ever sat next to you in a fucking interview when you aren't even meant to have your phone on, trying to figure out what exactly is so important?”

 

Gerard shook his head. “No, Daddy.”

 

“Have you ever had to sit there, with the fucking interviewer getting increasingly annoyed and curious at the same time, and had to come up with some fucking bullshit so they won't ask what's so interesting that you can't pay attention to what they're asking?”

 

Gerard shook his head again. “No, Daddy.”

 

“I know you fucking haven't,” Frank said. “And, in saying that, you haven't had to try and hide your phone, while replying, while also trying not to get a fucking hard on while you're trying to talk about fucking chord progressions, have you?”

 

Gerard swallowed visibly. “No, Daddy.”

 

Frank smacked him across the face, and Gerard squeaked. Frank started undoing his belt and jeans, and Gerard licked his lip.

 

“I'm sorry, Daddy,” Gerard whispered. “I'm sorry, I just wanted to make you happy and maybe less bored and I wanted you to see how cute I looked and-”

 

“Shut up, Gee,” Frank mumbled, and grabbed Gerard's hair. Gerard knew exactly what it meant, and ran his tongue over the head of Frank's cock, teasing. Frank pulled hard on Gerard's hair, making him gasp, and slid his cock between Gerard's wet, pink lips at the opportunity.

 

Gerard whimpered, and moved his tongue in circles around Frank's length, exactly how he knew Frank liked it. He tasted like skin and a little bit like sweat and just _Frank_ , and Gerard really fucking loved the way Frank tasted. 

 

Gerard choked and spluttered as Frank started to fuck his mouth, his gag reflex something he never could fully get rid of. He felt his eyes start to water and his jaw start to ache.

 

Frank stopped, and wrapped his fingers in Gerard's collar, pulling him up to stand by the thin piece of nylon. A small whimper escaped the back of Gerard's throat, and a tear ran down his cheek. Frank bit his lip.

 

“I'm going to fuck you, baby boy,” he murmured, fingers pulling tighter and tighter on the collar. “Daddy's gonna fuck you, and I'm going to come, and you know what, Gee?”

 

Gerard shook his head and wiped at his face. Frank tugged on the collar and gave him a look, a look Gerard knew all-too-well, that slight raise in his eyebrows and the tension in his jaw that meant _don't do that again._ “You're not going to come tonight, kitten,” Frank said, his voice almost uncomfortably calm. Gerard swallowed.

 

“But, Daddy-”

 

“If you come,” Frank interrupted, punctuating his words with another tug. “If you come, I'm making you sleep on the couch. Naked. No blankets. No cuddles. If you're good, I'll tuck you in nice and warm and you can have all the cuddles you want.”

 

Gerard shuddered. He didn't like it when Frank didn't let him come. It made his stomach churn and his cock ache and getting to sleep afterwards was always more difficult than usual. He hated it when he wasn't close to Frank though, when he had to force himself to fall asleep without a warm body pressed against his tailbone, and even moreso when Frank was so close but so far away.

 

He'd rather have his Daddy close and warm all night than come.

 

“Okay, Daddy,” he murmured, looking down as his feet. Frank pushed him back on the bed.

 

“On your back. I want to watch you, Gee,” Frank instructed, and Gerard shuffled over to the middle of the bed, kept his arms at his sides, and sheepishly spread his legs. Frank just wandered slowly around the foot of the bed, his eyes raking over Gerard's body, naked from the waist down. He hated being so exposed, it made him want to curl his legs up into his chest when Frank just stood back and stared. Gerard's thigh twitched, and he had to make himself stay put and not curl into a ball and hide.

 

“You're such a little cocktease, kitten,” Frank sighed, pulling his shirt off over his head as he paced, almost predatory, back and forth around the foot of the bed. “Take your shirt off.”

 

Gerard swallowed, but sat up and did as he was told. He felt even more self-conscious now, with Frank so close yet so far, and just... _staring_. It was okay taking photos, it was okay when Frank touched and stared when he was within arm's reach, but when he just stepped back and paced and _looked_ , Gerard wanted to cover himself up in a hundred blankets.

 

“I know what you're thinking, Gee,” Frank said, his voice slightly sharper than it had been, more serious. “I know what you're thinking, and stop it.”

 

Gerard made a small mewling sound at the back of his throat, and nodded. He tried, he really did, to do as he was told.

 

Frank shimmied his jeans and boxers over his hips and kicked them off into the corner of the room. He hopped on the bed, one knee either side of Gerard's calves, and sat back, his eyes still tracing every detail of Gerard's body.

 

“You're perfect, you know that, baby?” Frank mumbled, tilting his head to the side. Gerard made a noise, pointless and unidentifiable, and Frank smacked his thigh sharply.

 

“I wouldn't have been sitting there, in a fucking interview, with fucking _Ray_ right next to me, trying to hide a fucking hard on if you weren't,” he hissed. “So stop fucking thinking you're anything but fucking flawless, alright, baby boy?”

 

Gerard squeaked and nodded, pushing everything out of his head, trying to tunnel-vision on Frank and only Frank. Another sharp slap landed on the side of his thigh, and he twitched.

 

“I'm going to mark you up again, kitten,” Frank said, his fingers softly tracing the bright red handprints. “Where you can see it this time, so you remember. So you remember that you do what Daddy says, that you're _my_ angelboy, my Gee, my kitten. You're mine, and no one else's, and you do as you're told.”

 

Gerard swallowed visibly, and nodded again. “O-okay, Daddy. I'm... I'm sorry I was bad-”

 

Frank shushed him, and nudged his legs apart, settling in between Gerard's soft thighs. “I know you're sorry, but you've still got to deal with the consequences. You get marked up, and you don't come. That's getting off easy and you know it. I've got no crop, nothing,” Frank stated, tracing over Gerard's hipbone with his fingertips. “I could, but I know you were trying to do something nice. You meant well, just didn't do as you were told. And I'm pretty tired too.”

 

Another pang of guilt hit Gerard in the stomach, and he wanted to curl into a ball again. He hadn't done what he was told, and Frank was tired, and it was _his fault_.

 

Frank smacked him on the thigh again, harder than the last times, and his voice went deadly serious. There wasn't a hint of a smile in his tone, and it made Gerard shiver. “Don't you dare fucking start thinking bad, Gerard. I could just roll over and sleep. I'm choosing not to. I want you first, I want to fuck your pretty little ass, and I want to come inside you, and you'll get your punishment in the form of not coming too.”

 

Gerard squeaked, nodded, and blinked at the tears stinging the backs of his eyes. The last smack had fucking stung. Frank started fishing around the top drawer of the nightstand, a small sound of accomplishment escaping his mouth when he wrapped his fingers around the tube of lube. Gerard shivered inwardly, his eyes almost tunnel-vision focussed on Frank's thin, rough fingers, watching the ink across his knuckles move as he slicked himself up.

 

Gerard tensed and his thighs twitched as Frank gently pulled out his tail plug, his fingertips slightly wet and cold from the excess lube. He tensed again as the head of Frank's cock pressed against his hole, exhaling sharply as Frank slid inside. It didn't hurt, didn't burn, stretched a little, and Gerard wasn't complaining.

 

“I'm okay, Daddy,” Gerard whispered. “It doesn't hurt.”

 

Frank bit his lip and smiled, easing down onto his hands, Gerard's legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer. “That's what you get for wearing your tail all day like I told you to, baby.”

 

Gerard whined, low in the back of his throat, as Frank started to move his hips. Slowly at first, because even if it didn't hurt, too much too soon and it would. He felt Gerard's tension fade, his muscles relax, just fucking melt. He started to build up his pace, faster than usual, Gerard's soft little gasps like fucking music. He almost felt bad that he wasn't going to let Gerard come. Almost.

 

“Fuck, Gee,” Frank breathed, running his tongue over Gerard's chest, mouthing aimlessly at the pale expanse of skin before digging in his teeth. Gerard squealed and whimpered, twitching and writhing.

 

“Daddy, hurting-” Gerard began, and Frank just bit down harder.

 

Frank wanted him bruised. He wanted a heavy bruise, right where his mouth was, little half-moons in the shape of his teeth, black and blue and turning yellow around the sides in a day or two. He wanted Gerard to look in the mirror, or put on a shirt, or scratch at an itch and see, feel, the sharp twinge when he touched it.

 

When Frank rose back onto his hands, a small, stray tear was running down Gerard's cheek. Frank fucking loved it when he brought Gerard to tears – something about the way his eyes shone, went wide, squeezed shut when it really hurt – just hit nerves in Frank, made him shudder. He still hadn't got around to it, but one day, he was determined to make his little Gee cry, and capture it on film, to watch back a hundred times if he wanted to. Suddenly, Frank was half-torn on whether to come in Gerard's ass when he was ready, or to straddle Gerard's chest and stick those long, girlishly-pretty eyelashes together with jizz.

 

Frank shook his head, changing his angle just slightly, and Gerard tightened around him and let out a whimper. Frank groaned, decided that he could decorate his little kitten's face next time maybe, and rolled his hips harder, faster. He knew he was hitting Gerard's sweet spot dead-on, and the little moans and whimpers coming from his wet, pink mouth made Frank shudder.

 

Frank stuck two fingers between Gerard's lips, feeling his tongue and little teeth brushing against his knuckles. Frank hooked his fingertips over Gerard's bottom teeth, pulling his mouth open, just like those fucking open-mouth gags he really had to buy as soon as possible.

 

“You're not coming, baby boy,” Frank whispered, his voice ragged. “You come now, and I'm finding that fucking cock cage, and you're in it for a week.”

 

Gerard made a wet sound of protest that Frank translated to be an open-mouthed version of _but daddy_ , and Frank tugged harder on his jaw. He was getting close, really fucking close.

 

When Gerard started flicking his tongue over Frank's fingertips, just barely, trying to suck them into his mouth, trying to take them into his throat like he always did so well with Frank's cock, it hit him. Frank shook, felt Gerard tense up again beneath him, his hips rolling back and forth of their own accord as his orgasm came in waves.

 

Frank collapsed, settling his head on Gerard's chest, both their breathing heavy. He could feel Gerard's cock, hard and probably aching, digging into his lower stomach. He almost felt bad again, but Gerard needed to learn his lesson.

 

“Fuck, baby boy,” Frank sighed, slowly starting to pull out. “Stay still, alright? I don't want a huge mess.”

 

Gerard whimpered when Frank pulled out completely and hopped up off the bed, picking up a towel off the floor near the nightstand. “Butt up,” he instructed, and Gerard did so, feeling more than slightly awkward about his still-hard dick bouncing slightly as he lifted his ass off the bed.

 

Frank slid the towel underneath him, and Gerard settled back down. Frank watched the jizz leak out, just like some kind of fucking porno, and bit his lip lightly. His cock twitched.

 

“Get yourself cleaned up, yeah?” Frank mumbled, running a hand through his slightly-sweaty hair. “I'll go get the shower ready for you.”

 

Gerard sniffled and nodded, sitting up slowly, the warm wetness on his ass making him shiver, making him really fucking want some kind of contact with his cock. He didn't care what – Frank's mouth, Frank's hand, his own hand, which he was never allowed to do. Gerard couldn't touch himself, and he was fucking _dying_.

 

“I'm watching you shower too, kitten,” Frank said, his voice stern. “You're not touching yourself, or that fucking cock cage is coming out. Wipe yourself off and take out your ears, make sure you put your collar in a safe place with them, okay?”

 

Gerard held back a sigh of exasperation, and nodded. “Yes, Daddy. I'll put them in the drawer.”

 

Frank bent down and pressed a kiss to Gerard's forehead, and then to his lips. Just a quick peck, innocent, and ruffled Gerard's hair. “Good little baby Gee.”

 

Frank left the room, and Gerard pulled his phone out from under the pillow. There was a photo reply, from Frank, received before he'd come home, of his jeans, pulled just-below the line of his boxers, a very obvious bulge poking over the top of the denim waistband. _Your fault, quit it,_ it said, and Gerard shivered, almost shaking at the _need_ to touch himself, even if it was just for a second, just because his fucking Daddy Frankie was so perfect and he needed to fucking come and-

 

"Gee, come on. Shower time," Frank called, and Gerard groaned, frustrated and cranky. He shoved his phone in the drawer with his collar and ears, and followed Frank's footsteps toward the bathroom. A cold shower would have to do.


End file.
